Damn Tequila
by Snugglebunnies
Summary: A word to the wise: never get drunk. Or else you'll wake up with a strange man, in a strange room with nickers that look frighteningly similar to yours strewn about the place, in your birthday suit and with a massive hangover and no painkillers. DantexOC
1. Chapter O1: Of Drunken Sex and Hangovers

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed. [Beware of cussing and nudity]**

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**Damn Tequila**

Chapter One:  
Of Drunken Sex and Hangovers

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A word to the wise: never get drunk.

You know what, never drink at all. It makes you do incredibly stupid things and you wake up needing massive amounts of painkillers to deal with the hangover. If you're really stupid, however, you wake up with your undergarments strewn about a room you've never been in before and in the arms of a very, _very_ naked man.

Cue the panicked scream of hung-over young woman.

Lucy was always the prudish, dreadfully picky one of her friends. She was the twenty-four year old virgin. She was the one that broke up with the last three of her boyfriends since they had cheated on her because she wouldn't sleep with them. She never showed too much skin [she ever wore a one-piece swimsuit] and didn't believe in public displays of affection.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy kissing, she just didn't enjoy kissing _in front of other people_. Nor did she particularly enjoy getting roaring drunk in front of other people, yet here she was, in her birthday suit after getting drunk off her arse the day before. In front of another person. A stranger, no less.

"Get the hell away from me, you pervert!" Lucy screeched, an unforgiving sound on both their pounding heads, jerking away from the white-haired. She brought the sheets with her, planning to shield her bare body, but in turn revealed the man's very well...sculpted body. Blood rushed to her ears in embarrassment.

The man took his time to answer and smirked when he did, seeming content to watch the woman squirm, as he plugged one ear with his pinky due to her rather excessive screaming.

"Like what ya see, sweetheart?"

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	2. Chapter O2: Panties and Walks of Shame

**Disclaimer: blah blah blah I don't own Devil May Cry blah blah blah. Beware of cussing.**

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**Damn Tequila**

Chapter O2:  
Misplaced Panties and a Walk of Shame

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_"Like what ya see, sweetheart?"_

Lucy's fondness for the man [who was still sprawled on the bed in all his naked glory, by the way] hit rock bottom as those words left his lips. Actually, she felt a strange yearning to knock him over the head with a hard blunt object. She refrained from shooting the man a glare, seeing as the man's...erm, manhood was still visible.

"No! I do not, now no one-" Lucy protested, her ears burning in embarrassment at the man's suggestion.

"You sure did last night-" The man teased, smirking as he pushed himself from the bed to search for his misplaced garments.

"I was drunk, you asswipe!" She howled, fists clenching in rage. Forgetting the sick attraction she felt for the man, her head jerked to face him to award him a much needed glower. "Now, I'm going to find my clothes, leave and, with any luck, never see you again, kapeesh?"

With sheets pulled tightly around her form, the young woman began to scour the room for the previously mentioned clothing. A black dress tossed haphazardly over the lamp on the nightstand, her bra draped over the shower railing, a pair of dangerously high heels kicked under the bed.

Lucy frowned, biting her lip because of the predicament set before her. Glancing over at the man [whose name she still did not know] she mulled over if she should ask him. Lucy decided that she certainly would not leave with the hotel room with the possibly of some random sex-stranger having her much needed intimate things. Or that a maid would find them in the near future - the poor, underpaid woman would freak.

"...Have you seen my panties?"

The man, still rummaging around in search of his shirt, looked up at the woman with a questioningly amused brow raise. Lucy's lips twitched downwards into an irked frown. He gave off that smug, over-confident air that simply aggravated the crap out of her and he knew it.

"You know what, never mind. Let the maid find them." She babbled, her words slurring together out of anger and the fact that the man strangely unsettled her. Mind you, Lucy was not one to be easily intimidated. All the same, it was as if that stupid face of his masked something thoroughly terrifying. And it caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise.

Lucy exhaled sharply, snatching her purse from atop the generic dresser as she opened the door adjacent to it. "May I never have the displeasure of meeting you again." She called over her shoulder, one last jab at him before she left.

"Right back atcha, lady." he shouted back flippantly, as her eyes zeroed in on the pair of black lacy panties dangling from the doorknob. _Her undies had been out in the open._ She let out an unsteady breath. She was desperately trying to keep down the swelling of mortification, antagonism and utter panic that had been a stone in her stomach since she had woken up. She didn't want to give that crass man the pleasure of seeing her crack. It would hurt her pride too much.

Slamming the door behind her, Lucy hurried away, ready to be away from that horrible nightmare. At least she knew what kind of drunk she was - a _loose_ one. Albeit with good taste, if that man could've kept his trap shut, the rational, sober Lucy would've been enamored with him. But to do that, he would've needed a brain and it seemed he lacked such a thing.

As she wandered into the elevator [and away from that arse] she began wondering if she should get tested. _Surely my luck isn't that bad_, Lucy assured herself. The thought of having an STD made her cringe and seeing as she planned to marry into money, having to explain an STD would not bode well.

And there's the fact that she wasn't a virgin anymore. She didn't even remember having sex with the man! Lucy had expected her first time to be magical [and probably on the night of her wedding, but that had been negotiable] with fireworks going off in her head. The thought made her almost laugh aloud.

Then her mind moseyed down an even more dangerous path. To get an STD someone had to have unprotected sex. Unprotected sex = Babies. Lucy blanched at the thought.

"HOLY SHIT!" She burst, startling the poor old woman [who Lucy hadn't noticed earlier] standing next to her. "...Erm- sorry."

Running a hand through her messy bedhead, Lucy cursed. She had forgotten about the infamous 'Walk of Shame'. Whenever her friends had mentioned it, she had laughed it off. Yet, here she stood, in an elevator with an old woman looking at her funny, in the same clothes she wore yesterday, with a pair of black panties clenched in her hand. Ah, karma was certainly a big fat bitch.

No, she would go home today, take a long, hot shower, call in sick at work [something she had never done before] and act like none of this drunken-sex-with-a-strange nonsense had ever happened. Life would revert to normal again and she would become a rich business woman that, even though she was comfortable, would keep working. Maybe she would even donate to charity or run in marathons. Ha! Fat chance.

Lucy would not let her _mistake_ [the word made her cringe] affect her whole life.

Smiling as Lucy set her mental world upright, a familiar ringtone sounded from her purse. After a quick bout of digging around in the depths of the bag, Lucy triumphantly pulled out her ringing cellphone. Quickly flipping it open to answer the called, she didn't get the chance to greet the person on the other end before the high-pitched warbling of an acquaintance shattered her happy little world.

"Lulu! How was last night? I really didn't think you had that in ya!"

And with her friend's words Lucy realized that she had been drinking with other people last night and there were _witnesses_ to her indiscretion. And seeing as the chance of her getting away with murdering all of them was slim, Lucy grasped the fact that she was screwed.

Thoroughly and utterly screwed.

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**Thank you guys so freaking much for all the reviews! Glad you guys liked the first chapter and I hope you enjoyed this one :) Lucy's a bit of a grump, isn't she? I hope Dante was in character enough - I always have trouble writing his type of character. **

**Please**

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	3. Chapter O3: Homicide and Pink Pluses

**Chapter O3:  
Homicidal Tendencies and Little Pink Pluses**

_"Lulu! How was last night? I really didn't think you had that in ya!"_

Lucy felt as if someone had replaced every driblet of blood in her body with liquid nitrogen and turned her bones to stone while they were at it. She vainly urged herself to respond, to do something besides standing there with her mouth hanging open. Her oh-so dear friend's continuous talking turned into an annoying, high-pitched whining sound - like a mosquito that keeps flying around your ear.

Releasing a short, quick, shaky breath to calm herself, Lucy flipped on the autopilot switch in her head.

"Beth, it was horrible!" Lucy griped, grinning viciously at her next words. "His erm...thing was tiny and we didn't even get to do anything. He even started puking during foreplay! Absolutely disgusting." Lucy surprised herself how easily the harsh [and incredibly untrue] words spilled from her mouth. Apparently she had accidentally turn on the 'Evil Hag' switch in her head too.

Vaguely deciding to blame her new found personality trait on the bastard from the hotel room, Lucy waited for her friend's response as the elevator arrived at the ground floor. Teeth gnawing apprehensively on the inside of her cheek, Lucy hurried from the elevator. A maelstrom of thoughts and feelings were swirling in Lucy's mind, causing an uncomfortable amount of instability in her perfect little world.

"Really?! But he was so damn hot!" Beth let out a weighted breath, seemingly disappointed. "Oh well, I guess looks can be deceiving." Her voice had taken on a less excited tone.

"Mmhm." Lucy mumbled, eager to get away from this particular subject matter. "But hey, would you mind not telling any-" She didn't get to finish her plea for anonymity regarding her late night shenanigans, as Beth soon interrupted her.

"WAIT! That means you still have your V-card, doesn't it? Ugh...Lulu!" The other woman whined as Lucy made her way down the street. "Don't worry! We'll go drinking t-"

Lucy growled with frustration, rubbing her face with an agitated hand. Her head hurt, she was having to walk all the way home and Beth wouldn't stop _talking_. It was safe to say that Lucy was having one hell of a day. "Beth - look, I have a horrible hangover. I need coffee and aspirin. So can we talk about this later? Ok wonderful. Talk to you much, much later, Beth!" She slammed the flip phone shut, efficiently cutting her oh-so _fantastic_ friend off and giving some leeway to her killer headache.

Groaning, she mentally prepared herself for the long walk home and the even longer time required to clean up this horrible fucking mess she made. Pushing the stranger that she had sex with out of her mind, Lucy began to make a list of things that she would possibly need to accomplish setting things right again. She would have to find some way to keep Beth's blabbermouth shut, whether through blackmail, begging or murder she wasn't sure [murder seemed very tempting at the moment, though], a strict regimen of extreme ass-kissing to her boss as to make up for her missed day and a way to avoid that man at all costs - that included talking about him. Also, food. Food sounded increasingly good right now.

Happily reviewing her checklist, Lucy headed for the nearest restaurant that would serve haggard, grumpy girls.

**A month later -**

"Of course, Mr. Green. I'll make sure to get those files for you." Lucy said, swiveling lazily in her office chair. She didn't know what was wrong with her - she was never this...scatterbrained or lethargic for that matter when work was concerned. She had _forgotten_ to email her boss employee files. _Forgotten_.

Lucy hadn't forgotten do to something in ten years. Even if something did _happen_ to slip her mind, she had a fucking planner for that. A planner which she hadn't touched in a week. Lucy vaguely wondered if she was secretly on her deathbed, as that was the only explanation for her absolute carelessness. And the craziness of the past month seemed to live only to put emphasis on this fact.

Despite her minor obsession in exercise, Lucy had managed to gain a total of five pounds in the past three weeks. She blamed this ever-so agitating weight gain on her wonky eating habits of the past few weeks. Seriously, Lucy found herself awake at two in the morning craving pickles and white chocolate. And she _hated_ pickles! So, when the young woman started barfing her guts out the next morning, she, in turn, accused the foul pickles of the night before. The next week of her life was spent over a toilet. She missed five days of work because of that. Five days. Lucy couldn't afford to miss five days of work. It didn't fit into the five-year-plan. Hell, it didn't fit her personality - everybody knew no one was more of a workaholic than her.

And yet, these things happened.

So, Lucy thought back to when these horrible things began to happen to her. And she thought. And she thought. Then she stumbled across a cobwebbed, dark part of her memory and proceeded to relive the horrors of a white -haired stranger, a room reeking of sex and a big, ugly question.

A question so big and ugly it made poor Lucy's blood drain from her face.

Shoving herself away from her beloved, once well-kept desk, Lucy jerked into a standing position, grabbed her coat [which was draped off the back of her chair] and fled the building. Only a panic-ridden 'I'll be back in a few' to the secretary gave notice of Lucy's departure.

Hurrying down seven flights of stairs and out the door of the lofty building, the young, horrified woman made a beeline for the nearest, sketchiest gas station. She chose the grungiest one because she was well-aware of the fact that none of her friends would even spare a glance to this place. And them not digging into her business was exactly what she needed right now.

Weaving her way back to the feminine needs aisle, a frantic Lucy scoured the rows of shelves for the doom-bringing pink box. Snatching it up once her eyes spotted it, she bolted to the bathroom - her loathing for public restrooms not even flittering across her mind.

The next series of events played out before Lucy like a bad 'horror' [or really just a poorly planned chickflick] movie - riddled with anticipation and cliché.

Lucy never had such a hard time relieving herself nor had she ever genuinely cried before, yet she felt the choking, all-consuming urge to not care for once and let the salty drops stain her cheeks. And as the mocking, happy pink plus appeared on the pregnancy test, Lucy refused herself the luxury of despair - no, she chose anger instead.

"I'm going to kill that fucking son of a bitch!"

**The Next Day -**

Dante, halfheartedly engaged in a minor argument with Patty, didn't bother to glance up from his dirty magazine when the bell that dangled from the door jingled. Actually, the white-haired man only troubled himself with the action of looking up when a very pissed off voice [not that having someone absolutely infuriated with him was a new thing] sounded from the doorway.

"Hey, asshole." The feminine, livid voice began. "Mind if we talk for a bit?"

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**So sorry for the minor disappearance but thank you guys so much for all the reviews!**


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